Don't Think About Being Cold
by LibertyBelleAnne
Summary: Newkirk and Carter run into some complications on a simple mission to blow up a bridge. For Whumptober 2019 #1 Shaky Hands


**Disclaimer: I don't own any P.O.W. saboteurs.**

**A/N: For Whumptober 2019 #1 Shaky Hands**

**Don't Think About Being Cold**

"It sure is cold," Carter commented, trying to control his shivering.

"It's Germany in the middle of the bloody winter- of course, it's cold!" Newkirk snapped irritably.

What was supposed to be a simple two-man mission had been anything but easy. He usually had more patience for the young American but it really was miserably cold. Their ride had fallen through; so they had been forced to walk to their destination in the bitter cold, carrying heavy packs of explosives. They had yet to even make it to the bridge they were to rig to blow up and to top it all off Carter had not stopped talking.

His grandpa had taught a young Little Deer Who Runs Swift And Sure Through Forest, the gift of telling stories on cold winter nights. He claimed the tales warmed the soul allowing the body warm as well. His brother said they just distracted them from their shivering. Either way it didn't matter to Carter as he began telling a story trying to warm his friend up, "It once was so cold back home that..."

"Carter!" The Brit hissed through chattering teeth, "I don't care what happened back in Bullshit, North Dakota. Just shut up, will you?"

The Sergeant's face fell, he looked like a kicked puppy.

Guilt filled Newkirk's gut. "I just mean…" He tried to say something to make it better, but the younger man gave a watery smile and brushed off his words. Carter walked ahead with hunched shoulders. He didn't say anything more as they walked, kicking at the snow as they plodded along in strangled silence.

Carter, looking at the ground, finally mumbled in a ramble, "It's my fault; I talk too much. Sorry, Peter. I didn't mean to annoy you. It's just cold and it's best when you don't think about how cold you are. I'm doing it again, aren't I? Sorry."

He turned his pitiful eyes back to his buddy, seeking forgiveness. Before either could say anything, Carter disappeared.

"Andrew!" Newkirk ran to where the American had disappeared. He hoped to see the hapless man sprawled on the ground, grinning his goofy smile, after getting tangled on his own feet. It wouldn't be the first time, even on this mission. Instead, his heart sank as he took in the gaping hole in the ice above dark churning water.

Carter felt the cold shock of the water immediately. He clamped his mouth shut even when he wanted to gasp from the cold. His muscles seized, almost paralyzed. He didn't fight the current instead he pulled his sluggish limbs close to his body. He felt his body slam into a barrier. Using numb fingers he latched onto it, thankful there was no ice above him. He clung to the metal support as he gasped in the frigid air.

"Andrew!" He finally registered someone calling his name from nearby.

He turned to see Newkirk not too far away on the bank of the river. He tried to call out to his friend, "P...p..peter!"

"You found the ruddy bridge," Newkirk panted out of breath from running through the woods. He rummaged through his pack. Carter hadn't even realized he'd lost his own. He watched as his friend pulled out some detonator wire. Newkirk made a loop before tossing it over to him. He struggled to grip it so finally, he just wrapped it around his hand. Working together they got the half-frozen American back to shore.

"Ne...next t..time I...I think I'll w..w..walk," Carter stuttered with a grin.

Newkirk grinned back in relief. He was ready to head back to camp. He pulled off his overcoat handing it over. His glare stopped any protest being born on the shivering Sergeant's lips. As soon as Carter was dressed in the dry coat he clapped him on the shoulder, "Let's go blow up a bridge, you bloody pyromaniac."

He watched his friend's hands quake with tremors as he tried to set the fuses. Carter hissed in pain as his uncooperative fingers complained against the act of twisting wires together. The American looked down at his shaky hands with a look of betrayal.

"Let me do that," Newkirk demanded, hoping his irritation hid how worried he was.

Carter didn't fight him. He sat on the ground huddled into his burrowed coat. He gave instructions through chattering teeth, "Just twist the wires together and voila, you're done."

The British Corporal hurried along the bridge hurrying to finish wiring off the explosives. He tried to ignore the cold and hide his shivering in his insufficient lighter undercoat.

"It sure is cold," Carter commented, as he slowly stopped shivering.

"You're the crazy Yank that decided to go swimming," His accent thickened in agitation and worry as he worked.

"It wasn't me- it was my dang feet. They got a mind of their own, you know."

"I know," Newkirk sighed in defeat turning back to his friend as he finished his task.

"I'm getting kinda tired," Carter's eyes started to droop as his goofy smile reappeared, "Hey Peter I'm not cold anymore!"

"Carter! Andrew, stay awake!"

"Alright," He slurred as his eyes rolled up into his head as he passed out.

"You need to stay awake!" He shook his shoulders roughly but got no response.

The older man rubbed at the frozen flesh, trying to warm his friend. His skin was white as snow and his lips were blue. But most worrying was that he never stirred, didn't twitch a muscle and was barely breathing.

Newkirk's hands started to shake as he lifted Carter over his shoulder. He didn't know if it was from the cold or fear. He figured it didn't matter as he started running back to camp. He heard the bridge explode behind him, but didn't bother looking back. Carter remained deathly still.


End file.
